


Opacity

by t0bemadeofglass



Series: Opia!Verse [4]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Alternate Universe - Dark, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Alternate Universe - Police, Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Blood and Gore, Bombing, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Minor Character Death, Multiple Pairings, Original Character Death(s), POV Alternating, Therapy, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-06
Updated: 2017-06-09
Packaged: 2018-09-22 08:14:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9595628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/t0bemadeofglass/pseuds/t0bemadeofglass
Summary: Opacityn. the condition of lacking transparency or translucence; an obscurity of meaning.Rey thought she’d dodged a bullet in locking up Ben Solo. Sure, her nightmares of him coming after her send Rey reeling out of bed, but her mandated, department approved therapist had assured her it would all pass with time. Time, which she’s begun to learn she doesn’t have. There’s a new criminal in town, someone gunning for the higher ups in the Resistance Police Department, someone with a keen interest in the fallen son of Leia and Han Solo, looking to dredge up the past and shove it into the spotlight. If she’s going to get one step ahead, one step closer to stopping whoever they are, there’s only one source left for her to go to.Meeting with the cause of her trauma face-to-face doesn’t feel like progress, but what choice does she have?





	1. Till the Lights Go Out

**Author's Note:**

> So! Five million years later. I'm finally ready to start posting and writing more seriously for this fic. I'm so very thankful for everyone's support after Opia came out. I loved writing it as much as you all, hopefully, loved reading it. With this one things are going to be similarly dark but . . . fun, too. At least I think so. So buckle up 'cause it's gonna be a bumpy ride. Tags will be changing as the story progresses to reflect the advancing plot. 
> 
> If you are interested, there is also a [fanmix](http://8tracks.com/futurerustfuture-dust/opacity) of the same name, with music I listen to to help inspire myself
> 
> Thanks for reading!

“I see his face. I see it when I close my eyes, I see it when I’m out at the grocery store looking for eggs at three in the morning. I see it in the looks my boyfriend gives me when he wants me, and I come out of the bedroom dressed only in my underwear. I see it in the looks that the Chief gives me, knowing that I was sleeping with her son, and that somehow I’m to blame for his incarceration.” Rey took a deep, shuddering breath, staring down at the way her hands folded up in her lap. “I see it in the case files I’m being handed every other day.” 

“You’ve made a string of arrests, all of them progressively getting quicker and quicker,” the man sitting opposite her said, looking down his nose at where she was sitting, her own file in his hands. “I’d say you’re coping rather well.” 

Her face was hard as she turned to stare at him, her eyes narrowed in irritation. Didn’t he get it? “Wouldn’t you, if the last person you were fucking was killing people in some sort of bullshit way of showing you how much he cared?” 

 

\--

 

She made it to the police station a couple minutes later than she would’ve liked, coffee in hand for herself and for Finn. They had another case that they were determined to crack today, one that really shouldn’t have taken them so long, but Leia had insisted on Rey taking an extra break after her last psych eval. Apparently, she wasn’t taking the whole “Ben Solo having been a murder who she’d slept with” all that well. Six months had passed since he’d been put away, and that she was still having nightmares wasn’t, according to the RPD therapist on call, a good sign. He called it her survivor’s guilt, something that apparently all police officers went through when they found out that they’d known the perpetrator. She’d been assured multiple times that it wasn’t unusual that she was feeling guilty about the whole situation, but the continuous manifestation in her dreams was unsettling, according to his notes. 

Leia was pushing for her to take a longer break, Rey was pushing for another case to be added onto her load as soon as this one was done. She had taken the mandatory week and a half off when the news had first come out, had disappeared for Ben’s court date, and since she’d come back she hadn’t stopped working. Jess had stopped asking what was happening on account of Rey hardly ever being home, choosing instead to stay with Hux. _ He _ didn’t ask questions like the rest of them did. Even Finn’s unsure gaze, which leveled on her now, was getting on her nerves. 

“Brought you coffee,” Rey said with a small smile as she extended a hand to Finn, who was looking over the files on his desk. “You find anything else about the girl’s family that could indicate foul play?” 

He accepted the steaming beverage with a small murmur of thanks before shaking his head. “Not a one thing. Parent’s alibis check out, the brother was away at a friend’s for the night--eyewitnesses keep him there for the remainder of the evening. If we want to keep it in the family line of questioning, we’d need to start looking at her extended family. Grandparents are dead, but uncle and aunt live right down the road from them. They’ve been out of town for a couple weeks, without any forwarding address, so maybe that’s our best bet.” 

Rey was quiet as she perused the files he’d offered her in exchange for the coffee, looking over the face of a paunchy looking man and his wife, who looked as though she might be his sister. The resemblance was really something else. She bit her bottom lip. “Any priors? Have you tried running plates?” 

“Waiting on the results for the latter, and one, for her. She was accused of having stalked an ex boyfriend, had a restraining order, but that was a state away. He stayed, she moved here with her new husband from what I can gather.” 

“So nothing that would put them as prime suspects for a kidnapping,” Rey murmured. “Another dead end. Well, let’s go see what the family can tell us about them while we’re waiting for the plates.” 

An all encompassing chill ran down her spine as soon as the words were out, and felt her heart stutter. She knew this feeling, and her eyes had just skirted to the Chief’s office, where Leia and Han were standing looking cross at one another, as another figure stepped through the door. Despite Rey having just seen him, her therapist’s assistant stood in the doorway. His eyes were bloodshot, and Rey could smell the liquor on him from across the room. His hand trembled in the brown paper bag it’d been stuffed inside, and no sooner had Rey screamed “GET DOWN!” than she saw the arm clench. She had just enough time to grab Finn and throw him underneath her, the pair of them disappearing behind her desk, before the world around her trembled and exploded in a fury of noise and heat. The very foundation of the building seemed to quake, as though the tremors went further than just the firmament. The air was scalding, burning her throat as ashes rained down with the rest of the hell that had once been her place of employment, and the steel of her desk had all but molded to her and Finn’s body’s. Sirens blared, her eyes burned as she struggled to open them, and something thick coated the base of her neck when she moved her hand to examine the bizarre trickling sensation happening there. 

Leia, Han.  _ Finn _ . Beneath her, her partner twitched and coughed, determinedly alive and shaking as he looked up and around, as dazed as she was. They shared a look, one of shared purpose to ensure that the other was not hurt, before jumping to their feet and entering the bedlam of activity around them. There was nothing left of the assistant but a black stain of ash and human residue, a smoldering wreckage behind that promised an investigation once things got a little less crazy. 

If things got a little less crazy. 

The textured glass of Leia’s office had cracked but not broken, and she and Han were relatively unhurt, though it took some shouting on Leia’s behalf to convey this to Rey. The explosives had been severe enough to leave a crater, but not to blast the building to bits. There was a great deal of cosmetic injury, and those who’d been closest and hadn’t taken Rey’s warning into account fast enough had been injured. She watched Finn wrap a tourniquet around a man’s stump of a leg, blood pooling fast and thick beneath him as his mouth opened in silent screams, before she ran to assist one of the other men who’d been nearest the door. 

 

The bomber’s name had been Mikael, and up until then he’d had no previous signs of depression, suicidal tendencies, or anger towards anyone in the RPD. He’d been a model employee, always early, stayed late to assist, was friendly enough whenever Rey had talked to him before and after meetings. Frankly, she’d preferred him to the man she was forced to see. The extra case that Rey had been begging for, it seemed, had all but fallen into her lap. 

 

Hux hadn’t waited for her to come home before meeting her. He’d been offsite, the First Order having been called in for an extraction of a family whose father was a firm believer in his right to bear arms, and who had since just discovered that his children were not, in fact, his own. She’d never so much as had the inkling that he’d want to announce their relationship to the public, new though it was, but as soon as he was close enough he wrapped his arms tightly around her and buried his face in the crook of her neck. He didn’t choke on the scent of ash and burnt flesh, but rather embraced it as part of who she was. 

“Fuck. I heard the news--only after it’d happened. You’re okay?” 

“Two deaths,” Rey choked. “One of our own--Lawrence, and Mikael, the bomber. Hux. I  _ knew  _ him.” 

_ I saw him, _ she didn’t say, though she wanted to. In the split second before the bomb had gone off she’d zeroed in on the man’s dark hair, the same wide built frame and thought--maybe she  _ was  _ getting worse. Maybe she wasn’t improving as much as she’d hoped. 

Maybe improving wasn’t something she could do any more of. Her stomach jolted at that, and Hux’s arms wrapped tighter around her as she inhaled shakily. “I’m glad you’re alright,” he whispered against her neck, and she nodded. So was she. When she’d seen Mikael she hadn’t been so sure--had thought certainly, there wouldn’t be an issue, not like  _ that _ . He’d seemed fine just that morning. Had he been planning it then, when she’d walked past him to get into her therapist’s office? They’d yet to find out how sophisticated, or unsophisticated, his bomb was--it obviously wasn’t meant to do more than get rid of him (but why? Suicide didn’t seem like his sort of solution)--but if the target was the police force as a whole . . . he’d done a really shitty job. 

Hux’s hand wrapped around hers, and he pulled her out of the building and towards his car. She didn’t have to ask to know where it was he was driving them to. It was where she’d been staying for the past few months, Rey unable to sleep in her own. She had her own key, anyway, all that was left was to let her lease run out with Jessika and she’d be free to . . . to what? Move out?  _ Move on _ ? It wasn’t Jessika’s fault that Rey associated everything with Ben Solo, now, wasn’t her fault that Rey was too paranoid to return back to her old apartment for more than a couple minutes for fear that somehow, some way, he’d track her down and find her there. The last thing she wanted was for Jess to end up hurt because of her, so she’d just . . . fallen off the face of the map. They hung out occasionally, but she’d be moving out by the time their lease was up just to free Jess from having to worry about having a nonexistent roommate anymore. Hux had already promised her it was more than okay for her to move in all the way with him. He’d understood, been more than understanding about the whole situation. After all, he’d been just as taken in by Ben as she had been, having assumed that--for as crooked as the First Order could be, he’d at least still been a decent human being, not the killer that he’d turned into. 

They didn’t talk about it anymore. She was keen to leave the shadow of Ben Solo behind her as long as she could, even if his ghost wouldn’t extend the same courtesy to her. 

Once inside the apartment, Hux grabbed her a beer and a change of clothes, offering her up the shower if she wanted to get the grime of her day off. Wordlessly she tugged him inside with her, their movements flurried in her haste to press her skin to his, to feel his beating heart underneath her fingertips. To press his hands to her chest and make sure, make damn sure, that she was still herself. 

She let herself be pushed up against the cool tile wall, the contrasting temperature welcome in comparison to the nearly boiling water that spouted from above, as he lifted her up into his arms and slid into her. With the wall taking the brunt of her weight, she clung to the upper lip of the shower, hands digging into the tile hard enough to crack her nails and make the well worn callouses of her fingers ache. Their lips barely met, mouths hanging open to gasp for air as he fucked into her as hard as he could. His grip on her waist left bruises, his open mouth kissed her throat to leave more bruises along her collarbone, and in a matter of minutes she could focus on little more than the push and pull of his cock within her, the press of his body against hers. 

They couldn’t maintain that position forever, his body built for quick sprinting and carefully positioned shots, not bodily lifting another person up from the ground for an extended period of time. Before he went too far he slid out of her, set her feet back on the ground, and turned her around. With one hand on the small of her back, he used his other to guide his cock back into her. The hand that’d held her back snaked its way upwards into her hair, tugging so that she gasped, every other thrust of his punctuated with the sound of skin slapping against skin. She lost herself in the sound, in the pressure and perfect give and take that she’d since become familiar with. It was enough to wipe away the cobwebs of her day, enough to make her blissful and boneless in his grip as she came around him with a quiet whimper that made her flush. He followed suit a couple minutes later, the length of his body covering hers as he shuddered and held her against him. 

“Feel better?” he murmured in her ear, licking a slow stripe of water that’d curled its way down just behind her earlobe. 

She hummed and nodded, allowing him to finish taking care of her before they made it to the kitchen. Her beer had gone warm, but her brain was working again. Wordlessly, she pulled out the case files to go over while Hux pulled out take out menus, ordering Chinese while she worked, her order circled and well worn from the many times they’d done this already. Cooking was overrated. 

“My question,” she said over a bite of spicy vegetable lo mein nearly an hour later, her eyes snaking upwards from her chopsticks to Hux. “Why bomb the police station? There was no note, we didn’t receive any tip offs, any threats, demands, nothing. He was crying the whole time, which would be consistent with him being emotionally unstable, but it wasn’t even a  _ good  _ bomb, all things considered.” 

Hux snorted, his bright eyes on hers. “Describe a good bomb to me.” 

“One that effectively levels the building it was intended to, along with everyone inside of it. This didn’t even set off our fucking fire alarms until a few seconds had passed. It injured two people, but only killed Lawrence and Mikael. So why make a statement without an actual statement in hand?” 

Hux’s brow furrowed as her words computed. “You checked back at his place of employment, his home?” 

“All clean. We’re waiting on a subpoena for his medical records and phone records, but I’m willing to bet we’re not gonna find much. He doesn’t have any priors--fuck. We’re just missing something.” Again. Her head was spinning. She’d been doing so well, focusing on the work at hand and putting the pieces together to avoid looking at the jagged edges of what had once been her somewhat normal life, but this? This had her floundering all over again. Her skin crawled with familiarity. “I just don’t feel like this was his plan. I don’t think he wanted to. The look on his face--. I think he was pushed into doing it for some reason or another.” 

“By?” Hux had stopped with a bite of thai spiced pork on the way to his mouth, but was now lowering it. “Some enemy of the RPD’s? Wouldn’t have been someone angry at the FO. It’s public knowledge we’ve got a separate wing, and it wouldn’t be hard to navigate the way there.” 

“Exactly. So, someone’s gunning for the police, or at least trying to make it look like they are.” 

Her head whirled, and she took another bite of her food to give herself some time, some silence with which she could try and navigate the strange circumstances. She started to jot down notes in the corner, reminding herself to look for affiliates, family members, friends, anyone who might’ve been screwed over by the department in the last couple years. This felt like a last minute plan, given how poorly executed the whole thing was, yet at the same time she wasn’t about to put her money down on that just yet. There was more to it she just wasn’t seeing and with all her ideas written out in the margins at least she knew she’d have somewhere to go. It felt good, the semblance of a plan. Felt productive. Along with her full stomach and the ease in her bones from her and Hux fucking it was enough to call it a day. 

 

Her phone went off what felt like minutes after she’d fallen into bed, and Hux groaned at her side as she shifted to reach for it, thumbing over to unlock it. 

“M’yeah?” she asked, stifling a yawn. “This is Rey.” 

“Rey,” Chief Organa-Solo’s voice came in hard as steel on the other end, no trace amounts of exhaustion to be found. The tone scrubbed away any semblance of sleep Rey might’ve had left in her body. “I need you to come in. Just you. There’s been a new development.” 

Rey was already sitting up, getting out of bed on aching feet and sloppily shoving her jeans onto her legs with one hand. “No Finn?” 

“Not yet. Can you be at the station in twenty?” 

“Twenty tops, promise,” she affirmed. Leia didn’t give another answer, clicking off instead. 

“Work? Already?” Hux sat up on his elbows, his eyes following her. “Didn’t think you were on call--.” 

“‘M not. But I’m not gonna let the Chief down.” She bent over to kiss him as she fastened her bra behind her back, then tugged on a shirt. “See you later.” 

“Be safe.” 

She made no guarantees other than she’d try. She wasn’t stupid enough to make those sort of promises anymore. 


	2. The Best Worst Thing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there! Thank you so much for the amazing response to this fic--I'm really excited to have you along for the ride, and hope that you enjoy the update! 
> 
> Now, it was brought up by Raxephan that I have two extra works in the Opia 'verse: Bad Intentions (a Reylux fic) and black (don't care what you say) (Kylux fic). The first--Bad Intentions--does not occur within this timeline. It was a one-off that never happened in Opia, and was just something I'd been wanting to write for awhile and couldn't figure out how to fit into the actual story line. It's a sort of "what if" fic, in the sense that it brings up what could've happened if they'd all gotten together for a night.   
> Now, black (don't care what you say) _does_ have some bearing on this 'verse. It's meant to be seen as a backstory for Hux and Kylo's relationship for as long as they'd been working for the First Order together. It's up to you if you'd like to read it, it will be referenced later in the fic, but of course you don't have to. You can find both pieces in the Opia!Verse series that I set up on AO3. 
> 
> Thanks, once again, for the comments and for reading! It's always a great motivator to know that there are people reading, and enjoying, my work, so thank you for being amazing.

Chief Organa wasn’t able to see them when Rey and Finn arrived, stepping into the chaos that was the bullpen from one of the newly accessible side doors. The actual site of the bomb had been blocked off, though it still stood firm, and Rey could see faint traces of where their forensics team had been investigating. Whatever sleepiness she’d been feeling fifteen minutes ago faded at the sight. Right. They had work to do. She and Finn got to their desk and immediately pulled what files they had towards them, outlining what little they knew about the incident and the man who’d done it. They hadn’t even been officially assigned to the case, but Rey guessed (hoped?) they’d be approved to take it. Why else would Leia have called them in so early, with developments, if not to go over what information they had and hypothesize what it could all mean? Her stomach knotted, though. Even if she and Finn were the best team on the Force, there was a slight conflict of interest. And, she hated to remind herself, she wasn’t . . . all the way recovered from what had happened with Ben. 

Admonition was the first step towards recovery though, wasn’t it? 

There was no way the Chief wouldn’t assign them to the case, and even if she didn’t--Rey’s stomach squirmed here--and went with someone else, well. They’d have a hell of a time keeping Rey from getting involved. She was far too invested to simply let it get handed off to anyone. 

“Any history of mental illness in the family?” She looked up at where Finn was perusing the files. He worried his bottom lip with his teeth and shook his head. She could see where the sleepless bags had accumulated under his brown eyes, and wondered whether he’d been kept awake by what they’d seen, too. It wasn’t uncommon, though she knew some cops could go home after a particularly intense night and sleep like a damn baby. Finn? Maybe he’d seen Mikael’s face as she had, how he’d looked so helpless before the bomb had detonated. Had Finn caught, too, the regret in Mikael’s dark eyes? 

There was no way she was projecting all of this, was there? 

“Nothing. Any chance we can call your therapist and see if Mikael was seeing him? Or if he noticed anything? Not that you would’ve missed it, I mean.” 

She’d thought about that, honestly. Thought about how it was that she’d somehow missed Mikael’s suicidal tendencies in the short half-minute conversations they’d had while she’d waited for her appointment to begin. She’d gone over each of them at least a dozen times, wondering whether it was something she’d said--or did--to make him hate the precinct so much. 

“Rey?” 

Rey blinked a couple times in quick succession, finding her fists clenched at her side as she looked over at him. She forced herself to relax, to unclench her fists and to breathe slowly as she loosened her shoulders. Right. “I doubt that we’ll be able to get anything out of him. Doctor patient confidentiality, and all that. Might be able to subpoena it if we can prove that Mikael wasn’t working alone, and that his conversations might indicate that he had other cohorts that he was working with or that put him up to this--but I doubt it.” She shook her head, running a hand through her hair, mostly to distract herself from the way that her heart hammered. This couldn’t have been her fault, not this time. “We could ask about general behavior, though. See if it changed any time recently. If we don’t try to cut too close to asking about what they talked about--assuming they talked at all, as practitioner and patient, then I think we should be alright.”

Finn nodded his agreement, fingers tapping an unsteady rhythm on the desk. His eyes were as far off as Rey’s bed, and he’d just opened his mouth to speak when Chief Organa cut through the silence. “C’mon in you two.” She spoke from her office, the door having just opened to allow them in. Finn’s head jerked as he snapped out of his trance, sharing a look with Rey before they simultaneously stood and walked inside. Rey’s stomach knotted and her nails bit into her palms as she tried to think over any and everything she could say to try and explain to the Chief that they had absolutely  _ no idea  _ where the hell to begin with this case. That they had no leads, no suggestions, nothing. Unless her therapist was willing to talk, or they could get through to a family member or friend, she didn’t see that changing all that much. Finn closed the door behind them with a soft ‘click’ at the Chief’s insistence. 

Leia looked tired, yet her body was taut, tight with either anger, sorrow, or some mix of the two Rey thought. She’d been having a hell of a term as Chief, first with all the mayhem from Ben, and now this? Retirement, Rey guessed, couldn’t be too far off from Leia Organa’s mind. It would be for just about anyone. ‘Then again, it’s not as if the Chief is just  _ anyone _ .’

“Have you two found anything?” Leia asked, setting her palms flat against the desk for want, Rey guessed, of something to do with them. Both Finn and Rey shared a small look. 

“Not--not yet. Not exactly,” Rey hesitated to admit. “We weren’t sure whether you’d officially want us on this case--.” 

“My call this morning was too subtle?” Leia asked, voice drier than Rey had ever heard it. Her throat closed up. She wanted to gawk, to let her face reflect just how shocked she was with Leia’s attitude towards them. What was it they were supposed to have done? 

It was Finn who cleared his throat to speak first. “With all due respect, ma’am, we’re still putting everything together.” His face grew tight as he spoke, dark eyes hardening as he took a step closer. Leia didn’t budge. “We’re working on figuring out an angle. Where exactly we would start digging.” 

“And what do you have so far?” 

Rey chewed the inside of her cheek. Before Finn could speak she asked: “What happened, Chief?” 

Leia blinked a couple times, and the look that drew her brows tight together wasn’t one that Rey ever wanted leveled against her again. “What happened?” she sounded incredulous. “What happened was that a man with a bomb came into the office and  _ somehow _ you two have been--for lack of a better word-- _ requested  _ for this case.” 

“Requested?” Rey repeated. What?

“There was a call directed to my personal phone, this morning.” Leia’s lips pursed and her sharp gaze could’ve cut them to ribbons. “Anonymous, untraceable. Demanded that you two take the case or else more, severe bombings would occur. Worse than this, I was assured.” She moved out from behind her desk to stare between the two of them, and Rey had to fight the conscious urge to step back. “So. If you’ve got something to say, spit it out. Now.” 

How were they supposed to believe what they were hearing? Someone had requested-- _ demanded _ \--that they take the case? She supposed they could cross suicide off of the list of reasons why Mikael had brought a bomb into the precinct. No, this had coercion, forcible compliance, and a mastermind behind it all written all over it. But why them? 

She wetted her lips. “But, because Mikael comes from my therapist’s office, it looks like this is tied to me. Again.” Rey wanted to shout. Her toes curled in her shoes, and her hands clenched at her sides. Why again? Was someone pissed at her involvement with Ben Solo, and now had . . . bombed the police in order to punish her? To make it look like somehow this was all  _ her  _ fault again? 

“You seem to have a knack for it.” 

Rey bared her teeth. “I had  _ nothing  _ to do with this. I’m a police officer,” she hissed. “Unless you called me here to take my badge, Chief.” 

Leia’s lips pursed so tightly they were nearly white. “That won’t be necessary, Rey. Skip the dramatics, they don’t suit you.” 

Said the woman who called them both in in the dead of night to accuse Rey of being the source of the bombing. Was she going to walk around the rest of her career with that assumption, that worry, resting around her neck, threatening to choke her whenever something went wrong? If she didn’t love her job, didn’t feel panic begin to spread at the thought of not being an officer, she’d have turned her badge in herself and found a nice desk job to pass the rest of her life away at. 

“I had nothing to do with this,” Rey said, words short. “I knew Mikael by sight and through my mandated visits with my therapist alone. I never met with him outside of work, or spoke with him about anything other than the weather. I’ll give you whatever it is you need from me--but Chief?” Rey took a step forward, trying not to sound intimidating but forceful at the same time. She wasn’t going to be some pushover; she was too sleep deprived and  _ angry  _ for that. “I need you to trust me. Please.” 

Leia stared, and for a good couple minutes no one spoke. Rey wanted to look at Finn, to search his face and demand that he tell her he didn’t think it was all her fault, too, but didn’t dare break eye contact with Leia. 

Finally, the Chief’s shoulders relaxed ever so slightly. “You have it.” 

Thank God.

 

Without any prior history of family illness to start with, Rey and Finn were relegated to trying social media, contacting Mikael’s friends to see just whether or not he’d seemed odd or off lately. Leia had already broke the news to his father, the only close by family member Mikael had had, but the man had hardly seemed phased. 

“He just thanked me for the news and apologized for any damage that had been done.” Leia nursed a cup of coffee between her hands. Rey’d lost count of how many she’d had herself before the sun had even started to rise. 

“He  _ thanked  _ you?” Finn was on three cups himself, but this news alone jolted him awake as he scooted to the very front of his seat to stare at Leia. “What? What parent does that?” 

“One who doesn’t have much contact with their kid,” Leia supplied, shaking her head. “One who’s glad they’re six feet under. It means they no longer have to worry.” 

Was that an honest assessment, or bias? Was that how Leia would’ve felt if Hux had shot Ben and killed him, Rey wondered. Or would she have been angry at his death, angry at the circumstances that had brought him to that point, and yet unable to find any sort of catharsis to soothe her anger? Rey sighed. She didn’t have time to think about that. “Figure that’s a dead end, then?” 

Leia frowned. “A bit of questioning may go a long way. There’s no such thing as a dead end when the subject is, in fact, alive. There’s only a disconnect between the questions we want to ask and the responses they want to give. I’ll bring him in for further questioning, pose it as a need to identify the body for the mortician. He was all too willing to accept that his son was dead without any sort of proof, that alone makes me skeptical.”

“Finn and I will check with the therapist, then,” Rey offered, standing up slowly. Finn was just getting to his feet, too, when Leia shook her head. 

“Just Rey. It’ll seem less of an attack or a questioning if you go to him and act as though you’re struggling to piece it all together. He might open up more about Mikael if he suspects you’re going in as a client, not as an investigator.” 

Rey’s mouth dropped half an inch. That was borderline grounds for a misconduct of the law. It was privelaged information, assuming that Mikael was a client, and even if he wasn’t would her therapist really give anything away that was telling? Or was this Leia’s way of killing two birds with one stone: getting Rey to talk about her grief and the difficult situation she was adapting to, as well as possibly getting information? If the latter, it was a stroke of genius, one that she couldn’t wiggle her way out of. 

“Finn will go and speak with Mikael’s friends, those who responded. You have at least one or two of them, don’t you?” Leia asked, fixing him with a look that had Finn nodding quickly. 

“Of course. Uh, I’ll get right on that.” 

They broke off from Leia, leaving her to stare down at the open case files on Rey’s desk, just as the rest of the office began to stream in through the doors, a repair crew along with them to begin work on the damages. Rey thought she heard Leia tell them no, that they didn’t need to start so soon, and wondered whether she was going to make Mikael’s father face the damages his son had caused just as Leia had been forced to see Ben’s over and over. 


	3. Never Yours To Keep

Her psychiatrist, as it turned out, was out for the day. On the door to the office hung a sign bemoaning a personal emergency that stated he’d be out of the office for the rest of the week. Rey tried not to growl in frustration. A personal emergency, sure, but she needed to speak with him, and now he wasn’t there. For once she was actually seeking  _ him  _ out rather than being forced to go, how ironic was it that he wouldn’t be anywhere nearby? Chewing on her lower lip, she sighed and leaned up against the wall, resting her head against the brick. How was she going to do this? She still wasn’t convinced that Leia believed her, wasn’t certain that she had the chief’s trust at all honestly, and it grated on her nerves.

She really couldn’t blame Leia, and the more she thought it over the more irritating the situation became. First Ben, now this. How was anyone supposed to believe that she wasn’t the cause of all this drama when they seemed to inexplicably linked to her? How was she supposed to know that Ben would fixate on her, or that there would be an issue with someone who worked in her damn psychiatrist’s office. How could she have known, when there had been no signs, no warnings. Nothing. 

Just pain, death, and all of it leading back to her. 

Maybe she needed to find a new place, a new precinct. Certainly, Coruscant P.D. was the best of the best, and it was an honor to have a spot on the force, but really? If this shit kept happening, would she have a job all that much longer? She closed her eyes and forced herself to breathe slowly through her nose, feeling the irritating, all too familiar, pressure start between her temples as she tried to keep from letting her frustration bubble up and over. 

She was off-kilter and needed to find a way back. By the time she realized that her feet were moving she knew, without having to think too hard, what was going to happen.

 

This idea of hers was stupid. Insanely, pathetically, ridiculously stupid, and it was going to land her in some serious shit if she wasn’t careful. Not that it was stopping her, of course. Why would it? She pulled herself out of her car before she could second guess what she was doing, hastening to pick up the pace before sanity caught up and made her double back. She’d yet to visit the Finalizer Penitentiary and Asylum, and as she stood outside to stare at the worn brick building she couldn’t imagine why. Ominous . . . didn’t really seem to cover the aura that surrounded the byilding, just as anxious seemed too simple a word to describe how she felt being there. 

‘One foot in front of the other, Rey.’ 

Her badge got her through the security check point, though it didn’t spare her the second or third glances from the officers who were checking her in from behind their paperwork covered desk. Naked and vulnerable didn’t seem to cover the sensation she was feeling, and though she steeled herself for what was to come, it wasn’t helping that she recognized her name in the mumbled conversation between the two guards. 

“Is everything in order?” she asked, voice tight. 

The man currently holding her ID looked up, his eyes dark. “Does Chief Organa know you’re here?” 

“Yes,” she lied with ease, keeping his gaze until he looked back down at the card and offered it back. 

“Alright. Follow me.” 

The men and women collected in the building made her skin absolutely crawl. Their eyes were hooded, mouths housing yellowed teeth as glazed gazes followed her every move through the fluorescent lit hallways. The cells that they passed must have been for solitary cases, and she quickened her pace when one particular inmate began to rattle the door to his cell.  _ Fuck _ . What was she doing? 

“You said you’ve got business here? Questions?”

“Yes,” Rey said with a small nod as she was led down two flights of stairs, allowing her escort to glance back up at her. “I think he might be able to help me with a couple questions.”

“About the bombing? I promise you, no one’s been here to visit him.” 

No one. So Chief Organa hadn’t gone to see her son yet. Rey swallowed thickly. “I don’t think he was involved, but I think . . . his is the mind I want to pick at, to try and get behind everything else.” 

There was silence, and the squeaking of a hallway door opening seemed to stretch for a year as she was ushered past a door labeled 200a, 

“Suit yourself,” the man said with a look akin to disbelief. “He’s at the very end. You need me--.” 

She shook her head. “No. Thank you.” She didn’t want any witnesses. Still, he pointed to the very end of the hall, motioning to where the cameras would be so that they could make sure that nothing happened to her. Somehow she didn’t think her safety was all that they were concerned with. She offered him a small smile before heading through the door, trying not to focus in too much on the plethora of names that she recognized. Some of these people she’d studied in school, and he’d been stuck down here with them? 

The hallway was home to four individuals, three men, and one woman, and all of them watched her with all the caution of a feral cat staring down a small mouse. One of the men actually snapped at her, and Rey wished she wouldn’t have jumped in response. It was natural, she supposed, when she considered that he’d eaten his family, one at a time, and used their bones to decorate his house. 

These were the people Benjamin Solo kept company with now. His room was at the very end, and the sight of him before her stole the air from her lungs. As if she needed any help with her nerves already so tense. His hair was longer now, stopping just past his chin. She’d clutched those curls, wrapped her fingers through them more times than she could remember, and it caused all the blood to drain from her face at the memory. 

His hollow laugh made her cringe as she came to stand in front of his cell. It was little more than a cage, if she was honest, and her stomach dropped out as he spoke. “Rey. The one who got away, come to see me at last.” 

She swallowed thickly, schooling her face to show her indifference, staring over his shoulder at his room. It was sparse to say the least: a bed, a toilet, a couple books, and a flap in the plexiglass that separated the two of them for items and food, but nothing remotely dangerous or harmful, either to himself or to her. The furniture was all made of plastic, nothing he could break easily and use to hurt anyone, and there were no sheets on the bed. Were they worried he was going to try and hang himself? He didn’t seem the type. Then again, she wouldn’t have guessed he would willingly murder, either, so what did she know about him?

“How’ve--.” 

“I been?” he finished with a hoarse laugh, one that didn’t sound a thing like him. She chewed on the inside of her cheek as he scoffed and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “You have a lot of nerve asking me that. Can’t you see that I’m doing  _ just peachy _ ?” He spread his arms, as though to demonstrate that everything around him was as it should be, before shaking his head and letting his features contort in a scowl. “You look dreadful, honestly, though I suppose I’d rather see you that way than doing well.” 

She pursed her lips. This was a mistake. She shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t have come to visit, because honestly what was she supposed to expect? She’d put him here--no.  _ No _ . He’d put himself here with his actions, and now he was going to try and help her. She’d  _ make  _ him try and help her. After everything he’d put her through he owed her. 

“You know I had to do what I did,” she said, her eyes narrowing. He opened his mouth and she held up a hand to silence him. To her surprise he listened. He must’ve been more starved for attention than she thought. “But I didn’t come here to talk to you about that. I came to . . . to ask your opinion.” 

Ben’s lips turned upwards in a wry smile, and he began to pace on the other side of the glass. He looked more like a big cat, staring at a small child and waiting for the barrier to disappear between the two so he could pounce. She’d seen many a tiger give that same look at the children that came to stand and put their grubby hands on the glass of their enclosure. Rey tried not to let him smell her fear, even as she stepped closer. From her pocket she pulled a picture of Mikael and pressed it up against the glass. Ben frowned as he stared at the man. 

“Is this your new beau? Have you come to gloat?” he hissed, staring back at her. 

She shook her head. “This is the man who just bombed the police department. Shittily, at that. Only one other person besides he died. I was wondering if you might have any . . . any leads, or ideas of who could do this. Who would want to do this, or if he looked familiar.” She wet her lips, and tried not to notice how Ben’s eyes followed her tongue with that same hungry look. “Or if he might have been angry--at what you did to those people. We haven’t found any reason that he should’ve attacked the department, no vendetta, nothing.” 

“Maybe he was just crazy,” Ben smirked, pressing one hand up against the glass. She stared at his palm, trying not to think about how easily he could wrap his fingers around her neck and squeeze the life from her if the glass wasn’t there--. 

“I don’t think so. He’s not you.” 

“There’s no one else like me. You’ll see that soon enough. Tell me, is your bed cold at night? You’re welcome to share mine.” 

Yeah, this was a mistake. Snarling in her anger, she pocketed the picture once more and turned on her heel. “Fuck you, Ben. I shouldn’t have come here to--. God, I’m an idiot. And not that it’s any of your information, but my bed? Is plenty warm without you in it. I’ve got someone else now.” It would be a lie if Rey said that she didn’t delight in watching the surprise, and the rage, contort Ben’s features at that information. She couldn’t help but dig a little deeper, wanting to see him in as much anguish as she was upon her discovery that she’d been sleeping with a fucking murderer. “And he doesn’t go out and  _ kill people  _ that hurt me, but focuses his energy on making me happy instead. So. Have a nice rest of your life, jackass.” 

She turned on her heel, forcing herself to place one foot in front of the other. Even as his fist slammed down on the glass, and his screams of her name echoed in the hallway she left behind, she didn’t look back. Couldn’t look back. Her throat was tight, her breathing was erratic, and her vision had begun to go spotty. What in the hell did he do to her to get her this way? 

Only once the door to the hallway was closed behind her did she crouch down and close her eyes, trying to focus on her breathing. They were still at nothing, at least until she heard back from Finn. She could only hope that he’d have better luck than she had. 

“Are you doing alright, Miss?” the guard who’d opened the door for her asked, his gaze concerned and more than a little confused. 

Rey looked up, lips pursed, but nodded. “Yeah. Doing better.” She would have to be. 

 

Finn was already waiting for Rey back at the department by the time she arrived, his expression shifting from elation to concern as Rey stepped inside and all but slumped down at her desk. “What happened?” he asked, voice quiet as he knelt down in front of her. “The psychiatrist not helpful? You’re paperwhite, Rey. That’s saying something for you.” 

She didn’t have the energy to so much as send him a withering look at his comment. “I went to go see Ben instead. My psychiatrist wasn’t there.” 

“ _ What!? _ ”

“Finn, Rey.” Chief Organa’s voice came from the office, her small face pinched as she looked over at them. Rey’s chest expanded with panic. Had she already heard? “I need you in my office. There’s been a message and I need you both to hear it.” 

 

\--

 

_ By the time you get this message, Leia Organa, you’ll already have received my first warning. For too long you’ve navigated the law to reap benefits that do not belong to you and your kin; you’ve talked and circumvented your way to your position perhaps you should take your true father’s last name instead. It’s all the more fitting.  _

_ Confess your sins, right the wrongs that you have up until now been allowed to act out, or my second warning will not be so easily dismissed.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all your comments! I do realize that Leia has been exceedingly tough on Rey in the past chapters, and though it seems unfounded, I promise you there's a point to all of this. Thank you so much for sticking this out and reading my work <3 it means a great deal. I hope you enjoyed the update!


	4. your body's a message

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the lack of updates! As ever, life is continuing on its mad scramble here and there, so I'm attempting to write what I can when I can, in between shifts and projects. Thank you so much for your patience, it's greatly appreciated. I hope you enjoy the chapter!

Leia’s face was pale by the time the message finished, her lips pursed so tightly that they were practically white. Rey’s heart hammered in her chest, not daring look up at her Chief after the first initial glance. Shit. So Mikael wasn’t working alone, but rather with this . . . man. His voice had been smooth, self-assured, and without any sort of distinguishable characteristics or inflection that would’ve served as a starting point. He was too calm as he’d talked about the Chief’s wrongdoings and what had happened. Certainly, there were people--mostly on the nightly news--who weren’t keen on the “lax” laws and justice that Ben faced in the wake of his trial. Many of those speaking on it were old enough to have lived through the original Knights of Ren ordeal, and now berated Leia for not having been home often enough, or not paid enough attention to her son to keep him from being so fanatical. 

Of course, these were the men who screamed about having a woman as the Chief of Police at all, so. Really. It was to be expected. 

This man didn’t sound like that, and if anything that worried Rey all the more. He sounded far less preachy and more . . . obsessive. Dangerous, and determinedly so. 

“I guess I can nix talking with my psychiatrist, then,” Rey muttered. 

“Not quite. I’d like to know whether or not Mikael talked about this man with anyone, including his boss. Besides, I thought that was what your task was this afternoon.” Leia’s eyes narrowed, and Rey’s stomach dropped. Ah, shit. 

“I got distracted,” Rey admitted quietly. “And thought I might have a lead. It didn’t turn out to be so great, though. I’m sorry.”

Leia’s lips turned downwards in a frown, and as her eyes narrowed to sus out the lie on Rey’s mind, Rey knew better than to try and hide it. Her cheeks burned as she started her chief in the eyes and confessed: “My doctor wasn’t there when I went so instead I visited Ben. I wanted to--I don’t know what the hell I wanted, but I needed to pick his brain. See if he knew anyone who might’ve done this.” 

She knew the effect would be immediate, if not a career-ruining one, and the short huff of air that left Leia’s body as she very nearly recoiled from Rey was more painful than any derisive comment or blow could ever be. Finn could hardly even look at her, and Rey felt her throat tighten. “I needed--I needed to make sure he didn’t know who was behind this. But he didn’t have any leads and I--I thought I could maybe try and cut off whoever was doing this if they were thinking to take it out on the Department because of what he’d been. I’m sorry. I know I should’ve cleared it with you beforehand, ma’am. I didn’t mean to--.” 

“Enough.” The word was quiet, but shut Rey up before she could say much more. “You don’t need to explain yourself. Rey, it wasn’t a half bad idea.” 

But it was. She could read the pain on Leia’s face, could see it in the way her eyes blinked rapidly and she stared down. Ben’s name now had too many half-healed wounds associated with it, and Rey had ripped at them by simply bringing him into existence between the three. No one dared to speak until Finn cleared his throat.

“Chief, you said it was a good idea? Do you think whoever did this might be tied to Ben?” Even Finn hesitated around the name, and Rey felt her hands begin to tremble. She squeezed them tight, nails buried deep into the palms of her hands to keep them steady. She was being ridiculous. 

“Whoever it is doing this seems determined to keep bringing my family up into the picture. They brought up my father already, why wouldn’t they bring my son into this as well? Circumventing my way to my position, I ask you,” she growled quietly, gripping the edge of her desk and shaking her head. Then paused. She moved behind her desk and began rifling around in the papers until she finally pulled out a small sheaf of paper. 

“I’d talk to the psychiatrist,” she murmured, looking back up to Rey before she rifled around in the file. Rey hardly had time to wet her lips and ask why when Leia pulled forward a small packet of papers and offered them up to the duo. “And ask him about just why it was that Mikael was spending more and more on medical bills. Who it was that was sick. There are half a dozen payments, of a five thousand or more in nature, posted in the past three weeks alone. There’s no possible way that he could’ve made that much or saved up, even, to pay them off in such quick succession. We were planning on investigating through the hospital, but perhaps that’d be a better route since you haven’t spoken to the man yet.

“And when you’re done with that--how familiar are you with  _ Silence of the Lambs _ ?” 

Finn swore under his breath as Rey looked up from the paper with a snap, her neck cracking with the quick movement. Phrases about lotion and chianti and getting the lambs to stop screaming raced through her mind as she swallowed thickly. 

“You can’t be serious, Chief,” Finn said, voice tight. His hand sought out Rey’s free one and gave it a squeeze, which she gladly accepted. “He’s--no disrespect--.” 

“Crazy, yes. Deranged even, according to his psych eval. He’s also attached to Rey already. If we end up with a dead end, and nowhere to turn, it’s time to prove that I wasn’t just being soft by allowing my son to live and let him earn what’s left of his life.” 

 

While Finn spoke to the hospital about trying to figure out whose bills had been paid Rey rested her head on the desk and closed her eyes, struggling to keep her breathing even. She was so tired. Exhaustion sank into every inch of her bones, seeped from her pores, filling up her space until she could hardly breathe for it. She wanted to collapse and cry and sleep all at the same time, and given the spot that was coming in on the right side of her nose it wasn’t just the damn strain of the day that was taking a toll on her. At least, she mused sardonically, she was still regular enough even with the stress of the oncoming task ahead. Making a mental note to pick up tampons on her way back to the apartment, she fished out her phone and shot a text to Hux. 

REY: Hey. Things getting a little crazy at work. How’s it going with you?

She watched the small blue balloon flit just underneath her question, but didn’t feel like waiting to see whether or not he’d be able to respond to her immediately. She thumbed out of the conversation and, out of some perverse need, scrolled all her way down to her older messages. 

There sat Ben Solo’s name, staring accusingly up at her. Six months was a ridiculous amount of time to hold onto a text message, something that she’d never had the guts to confess to her psychiatrist. Still, the name stared accusingly up at her, guilt threading her fingertips enough to make her click on the conversation. She thumbed up through them, not wanting to read the last texts they’d sent, but still curious enough to wonder how it was they’d had such mundane conversations and he’d been killing people. For her. For himself. He’d confessed to using the Knights of Ren as a sort of springboard, out of a desire to throw them off track as well as harken back a time when decent delinquency had been prevalent. His words, which had echoed through the gallery at his hearing, haunted her. He’d ascribed to the idea that vigilantism would work, did work enough that it needed to be recreated, and Rey had been the perfect figure to rally behind. 

Her eyes skimmed over their last conversations as she chewed on the edge of a nail, trying not to wince when she bit too far. Blood pooled and ran over the length of her skin. The trail it left made breathing difficult as Rey’s mind reeled with the recollection of Ben’s victims, the damage done to their bodies. The jagged lines he’d left behind like some fucked up stroke of a paint brush, long having crusted over with old paint. The carved out letters and symbols he used to push fear into the hearts of those old enough to remember just what the Knights had tried to do. The abject horror that’d made a home in her bones as she’d connected the dots that led everything back to her. 

And now she was supposed to go back for his help? Actively seek him out? If this was a punishment, she had to admit it was a fair one after the bullshit she pulled, but it didn’t make it any more enjoyable. 

Her phone gave a soft ‘ping,’ Hux’s message popping up on screen. His day was fine, if not routine. They’d busted a drug ring, and he’d stopped the leader from taking out the cops on sight with one simple shot to the head, made from hundreds of feet away. He’d not had to say this to her, but she could imagine it, imagine him perched out away from the firefight but very much an integral part of the whole operation. 

Just as one clean shot had kept that situation from escalating, so had another of Hux’s well placed bullets kept her life safe--. 

“Rey,” Finn looked over at her, pulling her out of her reverie. “I’m not going to be able to do anything until tomorrow when I go back with a subpoena, and neither are you. Why don’t we take some of this home and talk about it tomorrow morning before we head out?”

Ever the voice of reason. She nodded and smiled gratefully, pulling what files she could muster to look at--as well as a few old case files from Ben’s horror-run through the city--before she disappeared without a word to anyone save Finn. Easy for him to say. Home was a welcoming boyfriend, a well-versed, veteran of the force with more than enough experience to assure the both of them that in the end, justice would win out the day. Home was a warm bed devoid of the touch of a man who’d seen her last lover put to jail. 

She made a bee-line for the bar instead, and texted Jess to invite her with. The excuse of having gone too long without really seeing one another was an easy one to keep up when really? She just wanted to be numb, at least for a little while. 

 

\--

 

Ben’s fingers traced where her palm had pressed against the glass, his breath fogging the surface. She’d had such fire in her eyes as she’d vehemently defended her new love, whomever it was. He’d gotten under her skin, and it delighted him to watch her rear up so forcefully, to know that he could still get her hot and bothered just as she did him. He’d be lying, full out, to admit that it didn’t make him jealous to think about any other man touching her save him, to think of someone else’s fingertips caressing her soft skin and keeping her warm between the sheets. His hand curled into a fist, and he slammed it against the glass wall so hard that he heard his fellow inmates shouting in displeasure at his outburst. 

In time he’d have her. In time. She’d be back to see him, and they’d work from there to work at absolving her of her sins against him. She’d come to see his side of things, of that he was certain. He’d learned nothing if not patience, and as he moved back to lay down on his bed, staring at the blank, peeling excuse for a ceiling above him, he grinned to feel his heart starting to race once again. The chase was on. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'd love to hear your comments and thoughts on the piece! I'm not sure what my posting schedule will be like, but I'm going to do my best to AT LEAST update monthly. Fingers crossed. Come say hi on [tumblr](http://futurerustfuture-dust.tumblr.com) and let me know what you thought!


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